


Where You Belong

by gay_wrath



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Established Relationship, Force-Sensitive Finn (Star Wars), M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Trans Finn (Star Wars), Trans Poe Dameron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:22:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21931747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gay_wrath/pseuds/gay_wrath
Summary: So when he’s asked for one more: One final burst. Pleaded through a strained moan. Lips skimming bruises and bite marks. Hands leaving his torso to pin his own above his head. Fingers interlacing lazily. Finn’s back creaking with the bed post as he’s bent nearly in half against the onslaught of desire for one final chase. Knees hovering over his heaving chest. The position far from comfortable.“Please. Come for me one last time sweetheart.”How could he possibly say no to that?
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 10
Kudos: 139





	Where You Belong

**Author's Note:**

> Initially wrote this out to scratch a particular itch and it transformed into something completely different. So [gestures] enjoy!  
Also they got together after tros cause no greedy, corporate mouse can tell me no  
If there are any tags I forgot to add let me know. This is only my second fic I've publicly posted
> 
> Almost forgot but if Im vague on some details or get something wrong it's because I haven't had the chance to watch the movie myself and am basing off all the info/leaks Ive managed to come across

"Come on babe one more time. You're doing so good. You're incredible. Beautiful. Gorgeous."

Every hushed reverence is seared into heated skin with gentle pecks and fervent nips. Finn can only shake and whimper as an eager tongue swirls around one of his nipples. Fists clenching the sheets like a lifeline as rough fingers press into the scars beneath his pecs. All the while the sharp snap and pull of powerful hips never cease their constant rhythm hard against his ass. Feeling stretched beyond his limits and molded into the mattress all at once. A lingering shred of coherence reminds him to cancel any plans lined up for the next day. 

Hell he might as well ask for the whole damn week to recover. 

When he initially planned for this night, he anticipated the scorching fire. The urgency and pent up desire that follows every prolonged separation. Co-generals or not, it is a rarity for their schedules to coincide with one another. Days, at worse weeks, flying by between passing kisses and last minute dinner dates. 

They both understand it's a necessary sacrifice. A cost that must be paid for the peace won after a grueling war. A year and there's still too much to be done. Still too many pieces scattered across the ever expanding stars to be found and patched back together. But the itch nevertheless lingers. 

The need and longing for skin against skin. The acceptance of their shared love raising the ever present hum for contact to an unbearable pitch. 

So when Finn saw the empty space among the crowded text of his holopad, a lone red circle to mark its specialty, he bounded to their shared quarters. A purposeful typhoon that none dare fall into his path. His own clothes a testament to the strength of hands that fought against the impossible. Buttons scattering to the floor. Forgotten until they're unskillfully stitched back into their place later.

He was prepared for the slam of impatience. Unflinching when their bedroom door pries open with the arrival of a breathless Poe. Bright orange flight suit hanging disheveled off one shoulder. 

Chin jutting out with pride as half lidded eyes slowly feasted on the sight of his bare body. The only coverage from their appraisal being red bands of ribbon tied around his chest and an all too familiar jacket made for a man a touch smaller than he is. Legs spread and fiddling with the ring hanging off the chain around his neck. 

Merely laughed as he's pinned against the headboard of their bed. Moaning against his boyfriend's tongue while the now old injury running up his back protested against the strain. Choked out "It's okay"s responding to the apologies bitten into his neck. Poe gaining back enough awareness to lower him gently onto the bed. 

The shredding of the ribbon. The quickness of which the other man had discarded his own clothing. Strapping on his dick with shaky fingers as he watched Finn open and stretch himself with his own lubed up fingers in rapt fascination. 

Even the rough, commanding order to "Keep it on" when he feigns to remove the jacket. All these details come to pass just as Finn had envisioned them. Knowing full well the kind of effect it has on his boyfriend when he walks around wearing his clothes. 

What he never could have imagined. What failed to be accounted for was how intense that effect is. How much more amplified it becomes when he wears nothing more under it.

Poe, by design, prefers to prolong these moments of respite. Enjoys the dance of feather-light touches, languid kisses, and achingly slow thrusts. Eyes full of mirth when a slap on his arm warns him against taking too long. Takes immense satisfaction at the windup of overworked muscles and desperate pleads for more. 

But tonight has been different. A merciless ferocity possessing the older man. Coming at Finn with bite and grip so strong the imprints left in their wake will last long since he's left for healing star systems in need of assistance. Pleasant stings to act as reminders of their unbreakable devotion. Throat left raw as groans, grunts, and screams are ripped out from deep within his lungs. Disoriented and dizzy with every new shift in position. Determined hands maneuvering his body while the grind against his pummeled hole never ceases the chase. The climb towards the peak of pleasure never-ending. 

He's lost count how many times he's come. Lost track when callused digits replacing the wide girth of the strap on and a hot, rabid mouth sucking on his length had him falling apart like it was the first time all over again. The waves of repeated release crashing into Finn like tides during a full moon. Never enough pause for embarrassment to bloom from the stream of praise and encouragement overflowing out of Poe’s cocky smirk. The usual retorts and cheeky banter fucked clean from his mind. 

Finn’s aware he had reached the edge of his stamina way before his partner has. His body sore and begging for surrender. But he had pushed and persisted regardless of it’s complaints. Whenever Poe stilled within him, knuckles brushing against his face, stepping down his fevered high to ask if he’s alright; Finn utilized whatever strength he had left to spear himself back into the rhythm. Carving out marks of his own into bronze skin. Lips and teeth stalling his boyfriend’s tongue before it gets the chance to convince them both to stop.

So when he’s asked for one more: One final burst. Pleaded through a strained moan. Lips skimming bruises and bite marks. Hands leaving his torso to pin his own above his head. Fingers interlacing lazily. Finn’s back creaking with the bed post as he’s bent nearly in half against the onslaught of desire for one final chase. Knees hovering over his heaving chest. The position far from comfortable. 

“Please. Come for me one last time sweetheart.” 

How could he possibly say no to that? 

Even as the build up has since lost it’s euphoric value, the precarious balance of pain and bliss beginning to teeter into excruciating, the younger man is remiss to stop. It was no longer about the sex anyways. Physical gratification incomparable to the warmth spreading across his core when their eyes lock. The adoration palpable within the dark browns of Poe’s irises. Ever present and shining brighter than any star. 

He used to shy away from such glances. Always the first to break the contact as if their light would damage his sight if he indulged in these moments for too long. Back when fragmented voices of lifelong conditioning clung and reverberated against his skull. The clipt, metallic sneer of Phasma asking who is he to be looked on as if he was to be treasured. 

Now he stares right back. Never wavering in showing the same love and affection he’s been drowning in since he left the First Order. Triumphant when Poe is the first to turn away for once. Ears tinged pink as he buries his face into the crook of his neck. Breathing in his scent and mumbling a whiny “It’s not fair” as he latches on a pulse point. And by the Force, Finn nearly weeps when he’s held tightly in tender arms through another one. Toes curling and colors spot his vision before everything goes black. 

He passed out. He’s sure of it. 

Finn blinks slowly back into consciousness. Images of a reoccurring dream intermingling against the backdrop of the gray walls of their sleeping quarters. 

_Lush jungle surrounding an old family farm. _

_Clear, blue skies rich with the perfume of oncoming rain. _

_Rey. Her laughter strumming up a song amidst the patter of waterfall. _

_A small tuft of thick, coily hair breezes past her legs. Wobbly legs and chubby arms reaching for someone hidden under the dry protection of their home. _

_Home._

_There’s someone waiting for them back home. _

_Welcoming arms catch the clumsy, little body. Arms too gentle to have seen a lifetime of war and grief wrap the bundle in a warm embrace._

Warm. He feels so warm. Reality comes back into focus. The images gone but not forgotten. Their meaning still fuzzy and unclear to Finn. 

“Finn?”

He jolts at the sound of his own name so close to his ear. Head colliding with a solid, hairy chest. Faintly aware of nimble fingers messaging up and down his arms. Pressing slow but firm circles into his wrists. He peers up to find handsome features pinched with worry. 

"When did you get back there?" he slurs out. Still groggy from exhaustion. 

That gets an endeared chuckle out of Poe. Shifting ever so slightly to continue his ministrations down the rest of Finn's body. Littering his temple with quick kisses.

"Cleaned up and got more comfortable while you took your beauty sleep." 

Finn tilts his head further back to catch a stray kiss with his lips. Poe's grin stretching wider as he pulls away to press their foreheads together. Content sigh filling the miniscule space between them. 

"Happy Birthday General," Finn whispers sleepily. Lids straining to stay awake. Nuzzling himself further into his lover's arms. 

Poe shakes his head. Laughing more fully now with slight exasperation in his tone.

"You really don't make this easy on me _General_. How in the hell am I going to outdo THAT?" 

"Hm don't worry. I think you got me covered for the next few birthdays." 

There's a pause at that. Nervous drumming tickling the scar on his spine. Annoying nudging at his shoulder keeping him from well deserved rest.

"Was it too much?" 

Finn levels a dry expression at the pilot. 

"You're always too much," he rushes to stop an indignant response with a sloppy kiss, "it's why I enjoy keeping you around so much." 

Poe lets out a good humored snort.

"Funny. I thought it was because you loved me." 

"Eh that too I guess."

He settles back down. Ready to doze off again when suddenly something occurs to him. 

"Wait. Hold on did you even," crude hand gestures replace the loss for words, "ya know?" 

A thick brow raises at the question before eyes blink rapidly in realization. 

"Oh! Oh yeah yeah don't worry about that." 

Full lips jut out into a pout, "But it's your birthday." 

Eyes crinkle with so much love it makes Finn's heart stutter and race. Even after all this time, that dazzling smile still has such a dangerous effect on him. It takes tremendous effort to keep his features schooled seriously as Poe squishes his cheeks between his palms. Bringing their faces close to brush their noses together. 

"No that's not what I meant," he maneuvers them both to face each other more comfortably, "Trust me if you were able to see yourself you wouldn't be asking that question." 

Finn huffs, "Not all of us is as narcissistic as you are love." 

There's that smirk again. A determined grip on his wrist leads his hand to drag down the length of Poe's body. Muscle twitching underneath his fingertips. Hot air puffing against his face as together they slide two fingers up the slit between the older man's legs. Still dripping and hot. 

"Huh. Ok." Is all Finn can manage as he brings his hand to his face to inspect the cum on his fingers. 

Without any thought, he licks them clean. Sucking them into his mouth and releasing with an obscene pop. A tortured groan breaks him out of whatever reverie he found himself in. 

"Cut that out. You're gonna get me all worked up again," Poe laments. Burying his face into the pillow. 

Now it's Finn's turn to laugh.

"Yeah well do whatever you want man," he's quick to amend at the sight of eyebrows rising in interest, "NOT me. Just keep it down while I slip into another coma." 

There’s a light slap on his chest for that. He simply shrugs and rolls them over to cling atop his human heating pad. Stubble scratching his lips when he grants his boyfriend one final peck. A tiny apology for the, admittedly, bad jest. 

The silence that follows is comfortable. Secure. A pleasantry they're rarely awarded in their line of work. Finn greedily hoards it by the lungful. Sleep creeping in by the beat of Poe's heartbeat. A thrum lulling him further. Faint singing bringing a smile to his face. 

The images return more vibrant. Visions, he’s beginning to realize, are what they are. Rey may have mentioned something about this kind of thing once before. He can’t quite remember. Just another thing added to the list of questions he’s been meaning to ask about. For now, he’s more than content to let them play out like just another dream. 

A chorus of new voices whispering assurances filter through the fog. Encouragements to keep on this chosen path. That he is where he should be. Where he belongs. 

And when he looks down upon a version of himself, speckles of gray beginning to cover his hairline, cradling a little body with a nose like his and Poe’s eyes between the man he loves; Finn finally believes them.

**Author's Note:**

> In case clarification is needed: Finn had top AND bottom surgery while Poe has neither cause why not


End file.
